My Student Life - Part II

Luckily for me, I had to bear the torture for just eight years as in class nine my father was transferred to South Delhi and I could happily leave my old school. Now a lot wiser about the dangers of having an elder sibling in the same school, I decided to ensure that we would not land up in the same school. As a result of my self-sabotaged performance in the interview and my brother's impeccable performance (as usual); he was selected in Sardar Patel Vidyalaya, Lodhi Road while I got admitted into a school much closer home, Apeejay School, Sheikh Sarai. At last I was free from the clutches of the ever domineering shadow of my elder brother, but well maybe I was still to endure something more sinister.

I walked into class IX - B and was introduced by the teacher as the 'New Student'. Having reached puberty and sporting a newly grown and as yet virgin moustache and oiled hair, I looked as a perfect mamma's boy standing there in front of the class. As my teacher pointed towards a seat for me to sit, I turned and there she was. She, a student in my class, with long hair, light brown eyes stifling a giggle as if she had seen a clown. And from that day onwards, everything changed. Yes, my first crush had hit me. And boy o boy, was it a heady feeling? Oh Yes!!! Those sneak peeks between library sessions, those awkward moments when I used to stand like a statue and my friends used to gawk at 'her' as she used to walk past, giggling along with her girlfriends… Yup, even I used to think that I was in love. Well, she left the school after class tenth and it ended in the sorrow that was supposed to come some time or the other.

The last two years of my school life were by far the most fabulous and I was fortunate to make some great friends with whom I am in touch even today. However, good things have a tendency of coming to an end very fast and soon it was time to take that last walk back home. Trust me it was the longest walk I ever took and each and every step is etched in my heart still. Yes, there have been instances when I wished that I could be back in school. But well, like water under a bridge, time which has flown does not come back.